


These walls aren't as thick as you think.

by Moondusted



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Depresssing, Don't hate me this one is actually decent, M/M, Self-Harm, Sorry guys this one isn't fluff, The Author Regrets Nothing, it ends well though, kinda sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:41:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moondusted/pseuds/Moondusted
Summary: Depressed Dan bumps into Phil on the way to work.





	These walls aren't as thick as you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for Self Harm! Love you guys, thanks for reading!

Dan lay on the floor of his room, his arms around his knees, sobbing. His razor blade is on the ground next to him, and his arms are bleeding. At least this time he was feeling something, anything. Crying, sobbing, hating himself and everything around him, that was better than being numb. This proved he was still there, still human, his real personality was hiding there somewhere beneath the mask and layers of self-doubt and hatred and darkness. And the real him was hurting just as badly as the facade was. But he couldn’t get rid of the facade, no matter how hard he tried. His mask was as hard as steel, the layers upon layers upon goddamn layers covered every bit of his real personality, letting no light through and never letting him in. Every cut on his arm broke down a layer, but built a new one. The walls were closing in, and he was trapped, stuck between them. Crying harder, he fell sideways; curled into a ball on the cold, hardwood floor. Eventually, he cried himself to sleep.

Phil was leaning against the wall in room, his heart breaking with every muffled sob that came through the wall. Sometimes they lasted for only a few minutes, sometimes they could last for hours. But every night, he could hear the sobs of the person on the other side of the wall. They left their apartments at the same time to go to work, so they always passed each other on their out. They never had any sort of conversations. Phil took the stairs, his neighbor took the elevator, and they never spoke. His neighbor had straight brown hair, most of it swept to the side in an emo fashion. He had haunted amber eyes, and always wore black. Black skinny jeans and a black long sleeved shirt. But for some reason he never seemed to fit the emo or goth scheme that you would think. He seemed, lost. Broken. Empty. Even when he was smiling and laughing, his eyes were always vacant. Empty. Phil didn’t think that he knew his sobs came through the walls. He didn’t know that someone else broke at night, he didn’t know that someone else cared more about him than almost anything else in the world. A total stranger. Eventually the tears quieted, and Phil fell asleep in the same position he did almost every night, leaning against the barrier that separated him from the person who needed him the most. A tear slipped down his cheek as he closed his eyes and sunk into the darkness of dreams that should be bright.

Dan woke up with an aching back, sore neck, and stinging arms. The emotions from last night flared up a single time, before quieting down into numbness. He stood up, stretching, wincing as that stretched the fragile scabs on his arms. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto his face, hoping it would help fix his dull, sunken in eyes. It didn’t. He grabbed his straightener, straightened and brushed his now-curly hair, and walked into his kitchen. He debated eating breakfast, but he still felt too numb inside to even be hungry. Instead, he walked back to his room, picked up the razor from the floor and put it in his nightstand drawer, grabbed a random shirt and pair of pants from his drawers, and wandered out the door to make his way to work early. He was going through the motions as if on autopilot, and he wasn’t paying any attention to his surroundings until he bumped into someone in the hallway.

Phil blearily stood up from his crouch on the wall, wiped the tear-streaks off of his face, and wandered into the bathroom to take a cold shower. When he got out, feeling thoroughly awake (although still numb and empty inside), he dried, straightened, and brushed his hair. He got dressed, matching a pastel blue shirt with a pair of blue jeans. Walking out of his bathroom, he ate a bowl of dry cereal for breakfast. He decided, with a glance at the clock, to go to work early today. Grabbing his jacket and a book, he walked out the door, running face-first into his neighbor and dropping his book.

Dan, blearily looking up and realizing he had bumped into someone, bent over and picked up his neighbor’s book for him with an apology. The sleeves of his slightly too small shirt rose up slightly, showing the vivid red marks on his arms. 

Phil, watching his neighbor, noticed the red marks on his wrists with a jolt of shock and horror. He didn’t react, didn’t make any sort of noise, just took the book silently from his neighbor with a shell-shocked look. He made eye contact with his neighbor, and they braced themselves like they were going to run away.

Dan was washed with a wave of panic when he realized that his had seen the cuts on his wrists from the night before. Feeling sick to his stomach, he braced himself against the onslaught of words and yelling he knew was going to ensue. Words started circling around in his head; “Emo. Attention-Seeker. Dramatic. Egotistical. Useless. Stupid. Annoying.” All playing on endless repeat as he replayed memory after memory of high school and college and the many, many times he had been called out.

Phil was in shock. He didn’t know what to do. He took a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his neighbor, searching for an answer in his amber eyes. Taking another deep breath, he reached out his hand. “Hi. I’m Phil.” He said, forcing a smile onto his face.

Dan was confused. His neighbor hadn’t begun yelling at him yet, and he couldn’t even begin to describe the emotions running through their bright blue eyes. He flinched back when the other person reached out their hand with an obviously fake smile. “I-I’m Dan.” He replied, refusing to take the other’s hand. What, what was going on? He stood there awkwardly, watching Phil’s face anxiously.

Phil was somewhat hurt when Dan didn’t shake his hand, but he didn’t let it show. “U-um… If you ever need someone to talk to...” he gestured helplessly towards Dan. “These walls aren’t as thick as you think.” He blurted out, immediately regretting it when Dan’s face grew hard. “I-I mean...” He started to stutter when Dan cut him off with a tone like ice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah. I’ve heard it all before. I’ll try to keep it down when I’m wishing I was dead at midnight.” Dan said in anger before storming off down the hallway, leaving Phil standing there, helpless. He got in the elevator, daring Phil to come back and talk to him with a glare. Once the doors shut, he turned around and started banging his head into the side of the elevator wall. For a second, he’d dared to hope that maybe someone would understand, would be there for him. But in reality, it was just him… wait. What was ‘Phil’ playing at? What did he have to gain from this? A wave of embarrassment and guilt hit him like a brick wall, followed by a wave of anxiety. He’d just reacted so harshly to the only person who knew his secret in his new life, and the only person ever to not yell at him or mock him for it. He seemed nice, like he genuinely wanted to help, and Dan had straight up turned him down. How could he be such an awful person? The door chimed and started to open, and instantly Mask Dan was replacing the real Dan, shoving him so deep it was like he never existed.

Phil recoiled like he had been slapped. Watching Dan walk away, he so badly wanted to call out to him, correct his horrible mistake. All he had wanted to do was make him feel better, and he had instead made him feel worse. Turning, he opened his apartment door and walked back inside, calling in sick to his job and flopping on the couch, trying not to think. If he started thinking, he’d realize that the one person he really cared about now, the person he needed the most and the person that needed him, hated him forever. He’d start thinking about how Dan hurt himself, and how it was his fault, and he could have gone in and stopped him and help him feel better but instead he did NOTHING but SIT THERE and LISTEN and- oh. Fuck. He was thinking. Getting up took a huge amount of effort, but eventually he managed to get up and walk to his freezer, taking out a gallon tub of ice cream and sitting down to watch “The Weakest Link.” He managed to not think for the whole day, tuning out everything until he heard a knock at the door and realized his ice-cream had melted a long time ago. Sighing, he called out “Coming!” and stood up, leaving the ice-cream open on the table and pausing the TV. Opening the door, he saw Dan standing there anxiously. His head was ducked down, and he seemed to be sweating quite a bit. “H-hi, Dan! It was Dan, wasn’t it?” Phil asked, forcing on a smile and trying his best not to seem like he stayed home from work.

Dan watched as the door opened and another wave of guilt overcame him. This was the person he had come to apologize to. Looking up, he recognized the look of someone who had sat in the same place for almost the whole day, which didn’t make sense. He’d bumped into Phil on his way to work, which meant Phil was also on his way to work, because they usually left at the same time. And now that he thought about it, didn’t Phil get out of work later? Yeah, he clearly remembered that because he would always hear Phil come in almost an hour after him, hear him watch TV or talk to someone… almost like he was recording a video. Did that mean... Phil had stayed home from work after he had talked to Dan? Ugh, that just made him feel even worse! Taking a deep breath, he realized Phil was waiting for an answer, and had been waiting for almost a full minute now. “I-I’m sorry for being so rude in the hallway. You were just trying to help… and I-” He was cut off by Phil taking a step forward and hugging him. There were tears in his eyes, and he hugged Phil back like he was clinging to a life-boat. They might seem strange to anyone walking past, but that didn’t matter to either of them. They were there for each other, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
